Percival Mountain
by Scottno
Summary: When the secrets of the past converge, the Dungeon Master seeks the assistance of a past pupil. What will the effect be on the young ones when they meet someone who decided not to go home?
1. Prologue

The clearing was pleasant. The trees around where ancient and full of health, the grass vibrant and soft, it even had a pleasant stream running through it burbling away in the background. It was one clearing of hundreds in the depths of the forest, but this one had always been special to the man camping there now.

His had no tent; long years in the wilds had made sleeping in the open as natural as breathing to him. He just had a worn sleeping bag lying on a bedding of grass. Beside it a low fire burned with a pot hanging over it.

The owner of all this sat on a log. He was a handsome enough man, not a large one, but one who had spent years in the saddle, or on the trails, who practiced daily with the lean hungry looking sword that sat beside him. He was dressed in light leather armour that looked a little worn, and a generous cloak that had many patches. It was all well maintained though.

Beside him, within easy reach like the sword lay a staff. It was polished and straight, but unadorned.

He was working on an undershirt at the moment, carefully patching a hole that had just a little stain of blood around the rent. It was old blood though, and he had paid that orc back dearly for the injury.

He didn't even look surprised when the short bald creature stepped out from behind a rock. He just looked up, nodded, and greeted him as if they spoke every day.

"Dungeon Master. Well met."

"Tristan, well met yourself," the Dungeon Master grinned, a truly happy grin. The creature jumped up on the log and wriggled his bum appreciatively.

"I have always liked this place." He looked at the staff that leaned between them. "May I."

Tristan nodded permission. The Dungeon Master picked the staff and looked at it carefully. He nodded his head. "This is very good. You have learned much in your time here."

Tristan grinned back at him. "I had a good teacher for much of it."

They sat for a moment, neither speaking, comfortable in each others presence. While the man looked no more than twenty, these two had a long association, and had many shared memories. Finally the man broke the silence.

"We have heard stories. We hear about young adventurers, about a cloak, a hat, a stick, a club, a shield and a bow. I guess you got past Tiamet."

"Do the stories sound familiar?"

The man grinned. "I had wondered how long before you found some new pupils. You aren't happy unless you can meddle are you?"

The Dungeon Master laughed. But he didn't disagree.

'So how are these newbie's? Are they argumentative and suspicious?"

"No more than some others in the past."

"Are they disrespectful? Please tell me they are disrespectful."

"Not all of them."

Tristan chuckled. But he also felt a loss deep inside. He couldn't help looking at the single sleeping bag, and remembering when there had been six. So much had happened between then and now.

The Dungeon Master leaned forwards and waved his hand. In the air before them appeared a shimmering image, of six youngsters and a little unicorn walking along a mountain trail.

The leader was the Archer. Tristan raised his eyebrow. "The Archer leads?'

"Hank is young but a very wise leader."

Then he saw the ones he had known as the Staff, the Spy and a rather small looking Barbarian, and finally the Knight.

"The spy is pretty, but that knight looks distinctively unknightly."

"My little thief is pretty, and I think the kindest soul I have ever met. The little barbarian is her brother. The Cavalier is…" the Dungeon Master paused, "… my Cavalier tries hard."

"He looks trying enough."

A small boy in a green robe ran into the image trying to catch up. He was being pursued by an angry cow. The others stopped and laugh.

Tristan leaned forwards laughing as well. "That dam hat. I remember that dam hat and everything it did to me. Let me guess, your mage was trying for lunch?"

The Dungeon master laughed a rich belly laugh that would have amazed the six children in the image.

"You shall meet them soon. But first, that coffee on the pot looks nearly done. I still don't know where you get it from."

"In all my time in this realm, that has been my truly great accomplishment."

Tristan stood up and stretched. He went to the fire, and poured some of the thick almost coffee into two cups. As his back was turned he asked "Have you told them about us?"

Dungeon Master was not surprised at the question, or the vulnerability in the mans voice. Time moved funny in the realms, and while this man was only twenty, the adventures he had spent much of it out of the stream of time. The land had forgotten him and his companions.

"No." The ancient creature said softly. He too looked at the one remaining sleeping bag. "It has not seemed right to burden them with that. But the time is coming. That's why you must meet them and soon."

"That image you showed me, it looked like Percival's Mountain. They are not far. I will head there tomorrow then."

"That would be good. Trouble pursues them Tristan, old trouble. Trouble they are not prepared for."

"I am guessing its trouble we kind of made ourselves."

"Yes. But for now, I shall enjoy your company, then we shall talk about old times, and then I will think of how to tell them about you. It's a long story to put into a riddle!"

The two old friends laugh, and the night passed.


	2. Trouble in town

They had come to the village just as the fist sun set, and Sheila had felt the entire tension flood out of her body. It was a pretty village, nestled and protected by the mountains, a secure place surrounded by a timber wall that felt homely and safe. Sheila didn't often feel safe, and she appreciated those times when she did. She longed for these times when she didn't have to worry about Bobby or the others.

The village was both cheerful and prosperous. They people mostly farmed the local valleys and there was even a contingent of Dwarves who mined the local mountains. It had a cobbled road running through the centre with a little square in the middle. A fountain held a statue of a knight on one knee facing the mountain. There was an inn there, hanging a sign with a down turned sword.

"They really like the knightly sort here don't you reckon." The cavalier looked pretty smug. "I reckon I should be pretty popular here."

"Except you don't have a sword, only your cutting wit, and even that's fairly blunt," teased Diane.

They found they where lucky with the inn. While it was busy there where rooms available, and they traded Presto's cow for room and board. Presto was happy, and acting as if that's what he had meant all along, and Sheila was glad to see it, the mage had been a little down lately.

The inn keeper was a kindly man called Parvel who took pity on the young ones and promised to be sure to feed them well, and provide the best two rooms in the house.

The rooms where lovely too. Sheila and Diane had a little attic room with a window that held a stunning view of the mountain. It was very small, and some would say cramped, but after sleeping outdoors for so long it seemed like heaven. There where two little beds and even a little bedside table. They lay their few possessions out couldn't help laughing.

The best thing of all was the baths. In the basement the inn held a room with several tubs, one of Parvel's sons filled to steaming tubs for the girls and they very gratefully sank into them.

For a while they just lay there enjoying the warmth and the rare feeling of cleanliness. They where even able to wash their hair.

Sheila looked over at her friend. The two girls hadn't really known each other back home. Diana was only one year older than Sheila. They had grown close here though, and not just because they where the two girls. They had provided comfit and companionship to each other, as they learnt to cope in a world where there where none of the niceties they had always been used to.

Sheila lay back and sighed.

"How long do you think we'll get to stay here Sheila"

"I hope a while. I guess until we hear from Dungeon Master we might as well stay somewhere comfortable."

"Until the cash cow runs out," giggled Diane. "Hasn't hank said anything." She sat up and looked intently at the read haired girl. "You are closer to him than the rest of us. You know he adores you. When are you going to do something about that?"

Sheila closed her eyes for a moment. "Do what? Go out on a date? There doesn't really seem anywhere to go."

Diana sighed. "I suppose. It's a pity though."

Sheila didn't reply. Diana was right. She knew that she and hank had been becoming gradually closer, and she realised that Diana at least had noticed. Had the others? It was like she said though, they could get to a point but where would it go from there. They where away from any real civilisation, there would be no breaks on the relationship and at 13 years of age there was a lot that she wasn't ready for.

The girls finished their baths and got dressed again. They found the boys down in the tap room appreciatively drinking some ale.

She noticed that the group was the centre of attention there, everyone in the inn looked at them. She guessed they didn't get many visitors in this neck of the woods.

The meal was good, and the locals polite that they left the strangers in peace after an initial interest. Parvel was as good as his word and they feasted on roast lamb and beautiful crispy vegetables. The whole group began to unwind.

Bobby was soon talking to the locals who where fascinated with Uni, and Sheila was relieved to see the unicorn happy. If these people meant any mischief she knew the unicorn would sense it. The boys where given some ale which they made a great show of drinking, though Diane and Sheila grinned at each other, knowing the boys where struggling with the strong drink. They took a little wine themselves, but only a little, because they weren't really old enough to enjoy it.

The cavalier was leaning back in his chair with a very satisfied look on his face. "Now if things where always like this I could just about stay hear. This man Parvels a treat. When we go home we can take him with us."

"What would Parvel do there, be your butler. Some invitation, come to my world and see my cellar!" Diane laughed.

The cavalier frowned. 'It's not a bad life, being in servitude. You can all work for me back home. Hank can be my forester, Diana my bodyguard. Presto could be my fool, and Bobby could care for my horses. After all, a horse is only a unicorn that lost its horn!"

"What about me Eric, is there no place for me in your fancy mansion?"

"Well Sheila, I cant really say what you would be." He grinned evilly. "If I did either of these boys would try to bang me on the head." He swung his mug towards Hank and Bobby.

"I don't think any of us will work for you Cavalier," laughed Diane. "It would be hard for us to accept a boss who was actually prettier as a bog beast."

Even Eric laughed at that, which Sheila was glad off. She didn't want to find out what Eric wanted her to be in his mansion. Knowing him it would be something disgusting.

After a while Sheila found herself yawning. She hadn't slept well lately and it was getting late. Even Bobby was looking tired though he was making an effort to stay up. She called him over.

"Awww sis, can't I stay up."

Sheila frowned "I don't think so Bobby." She looked around and the place seemed safe, but she didn't like the idea of her little brother hanging around. It looked like there whee some heavy drinkers, and besides, if the boys wanted to let their hair out and kick back, well they shouldn't have to worry about watching a nine year old boy.

Bobby looked angry. "You never let me do anything fun Sheila."

Sheila was surprised, it wasn't like Bobby to talk back at her. She saw Hank looking over and felt a bit of relief. Hank would support her. "Its all right Sheila, I'll watch Bobby. You gotta let him have some fun for a change."

Sheila flinched stung. It wasn't like Hank to say something like that. Hank saw that he had upset her and he reached out for her. In his slightly drunken state he used a little more force than he meant and actually pulled her over. She overbalanced and fell into his lap.

The whole group stopped still for a moment. There was Sheila, so tiny and pretty, sprawled out in Hanks lap like some kind of tavern wench.

Everyone started to laugh, a few bystanders yelled out helpful hints as to what hank should do next, a few made offers to Sheila as well. The poor girl went bright red. She rose to her feet and stormed off, bright red in the face.

She didn't know what upset her more, being accused of being mean to her little brother, or being manhandled by Hank. She really felt the tears coming now.

She just turned around and made for the steps, tears blurring her vision. She told herself she shouldn't be upset, maybe she was too restrictive of Bobby. She just needed some sleep to recover herself.

She felt Diane grabbing her arm from behind. Sheila turned and blinked away her tears. "C'mon Sheila. We never get to spend time alone. Let's go and talk about boys and all the other girly things these oafs just don't get."

Downstairs Hank stared into his mug of ale. He hadn't seen the tears in Sheilas eyes but he had heard what he had said, and he knew it wasn't how he had meant it. He had every bit of respect for the red headed girl, more than respect. He had been disappointed that she wasn't staying down with them.

He had meant of course that Bobby needed to have some fun for a change, because of all the trouble they had to face in the realm. He had never meant to imply that she didn't let him have any fun. Still he could clear it up in the morning, and he was sure she wouldn't be that upset with him. She would have given him a piece of her mind if she had been.

He understood the extra pressure on her, having the added responsibility of looking after Bobby. He knew her well enough to understand that she was constantly terrified for him. He just wished that she realised how much they all cared for the boy. He was all of their responsibility. She could leave him with them and they would watch out for him, they could be trusted.

He had wanted to express that to her, had tried to pull her over to explain how they all felt about her and Bobby, how they worried about the pressure she placed on herself. Instead it had all gone wrong.

Then he had pulled her into his lap. He shook his head. That had been an accident to. He would never do that to a girl, not manhandle her like that, and certainly not humiliate her in that way. Especially not Sheila, not his shy little Sheila. He was going to be in a lot of trouble in the morning.

He had been too mortified to know what to say. He hadn't known how to fix it.

He looked up as the Cavalier passed him a fresh mug. "Drink up" he cried. "For tomorrow you are a dead man, and that's if you live thru the night."

He agreed, and decided just one more wouldn't hurt.

Upstairs Sheila slept for a while, and then woke in a cold sweat. She felt hot in the room, and sat up, feeling the cool breeze flowing thru the window. Diana slept still, breathing softly. She decided to check on Bobby. She left her boots off and silently stepped over to the door. She noticed that the boys hadn't returned to their room. She felt a twinge of panic and walked quietly over to the stairs. She tiptoed down, worrying that she couldn't hear anything.

When she got to the taproom she saw that the boys where slumped across a table. She looked at the ranger; he looked a little worse for wear. She was still angry at him but Diane and she had talked about it, and she was okay now. Still, she had better make him suffer for it in the morning.

Presto was out to, with his head resting on his hat. It made a good pillow, she was glad to see him get some use out of it that didn't stress him out. She gave him a light kiss on the forehead as she went past. She felt a special bond with Presto; she knew the boy was often as stressed about things as her, and his age was closer to hers than the others.

She noticed that the cavalier was awake still. He was smiling at her, and for once he looked serious. She felt his eyes wash over her. She smiled shyly, suddenly aware that she wasn't really dressed to be out in public. Her costume was normally decent, but without the boots, well, it wasn't hot she would normally walk around.

She didn't for a moment think anyone would be bothering to look at her. She thought the cavalier's comment earlier was just him being, well, a cavalier.

"Where's Bobby" she asked.

"The young barbarian gentleman is over there" he pointed.

She looked over and saw that Bobby was curled up next to uni asleep by the fire. She felt relief and smiled her thanks.

She started moving towards the door. "Where are you going?" asked Eric.

"I might take in some evening air. I can't sleep. It must be nice out there after such a hot day"

Eric frowned. "I might be a little drunk, but I don't think you should go out alone."

She sat beside him and kissed his cheek. "Don't worry about me brave cavalier. I have my cloak."

He frowned. "You know Hank didn't mean it don't you. I mean, I can't believe I'm defending the bib boob, but you know he didn't mean it."

She frowned at Hank. "Well he will be sorry."

She stood up and padded out the front door silently on her bare feet. In this village they didn't need to lock their doors, and that more than anything else made her feel comfortable walking around. She couldn't see anyone around, and besides she had her cloak on. The little street was cobbled and clean so she didn't bother going back for her boots.

She could see a nice fountain in the town square, so she walked carefully over in the moonlight. The fountain too was clean so she sat on its rim and let her feet dangle in the water. It was slightly cold, but not unpleasant after the summer day.

The statue intrigued her. It was of a knight, but a badly injured one. He kneeled defiantly though, his sword arm in a sling, and only his shield held up, as if protecting the town from some calamity. His face was dignified and solemn, even in the half dark it his eyes seemed to be dignified and courageous.

She felt her breathe catch as she gazed into that handsome and tragic face. There was real majesty in it, kindness and sacrifice. It glared up at the mountain and his whole body out his desire to protect and nurture.

Then she saw the shield and she gasped. It was familiar, with a devise on it that she knew well. It was Eric's shield.

She stood up with her hand on her mouth. The surprise passed and she felt wonder. She had always wondered about previous bearers of the weapons, and now here was a clue. She looked for a plaque or something.

Suddenly she felt rough hands grab her, and she tried to scream. She struggled wildly hoping to get away or to make enough noise to attract attention. She bit the hand on her mouth and cried out as the creatures other hand slapped her hard.

The creature took the opportunity to pick her up and spin her around to face it. All thoughts fled from her mind as she saw into the red eyes of evil. A slow smile spread across its face and she saw the long fangs of a vampire.

"So sweet," it whispered and its voice was like a desert wind "So fresh, so pure, so soft."

She closed her eyes and felt its mouth touch her neck. The teeth scraped her skin and then she was filled with a terrible pain as they sunk into her.

She screamed, and then tried to contort away from the pain. She couldn't escape, those fangs where like steel nails holding her down.

She heard running, and Eric's voice crying out for her. The vampire dropped her for a moment and she hit the ground hard. She tried to get up but she was in shock and couldn't coordinate herself for a moment. She heard her name being screamed and saw Eric running madly towards her.

The creature was ready for him and with a giant blow sent him flying thru the air to against a wall. She heard people crying out in the buildings around, calling out. She managed to get onto her hands and knees, tried to pull her cloak on, but the creature turned back to her. It tore the cloak of her and threw it away. Then it grabbed her and ran from the square.

It stopped just outside the town and again it dropped her. She raised her head just as its fangs ripped into her neck again.

As her consciousness fled she could feel its hand on her body and hear it sucking her life noisily and greedily from her veins.

Then there was nothing.


	3. An unexpected meeting

Hank stood alone on a ridge of the mountain. Around him the locals where spread out looking for any sign that the creature had come this way.

They had followed as best they could, through the forest path and up onto the rocky loosely vegetated mountainside. The trail had been lost here. There was no sign of anyone passing thru at all.

In his hands he held Sheilas cloak. Even without her presence it smelled of her, like spring flowers. It also smelt of blood, some had been spilt across it shoulder. Her blood.

His Sheila was hurt. Someone or something had taken her. It had knocked out Eric, and he was still out, it had thrown him into a wall so hard that it had cracked the stonework. It had done that to Eric and then escaped with the girl Hank loved.

It had fled the town after Eric had raised the alarm. The locals had assisted as best they could in searching the town's grounds. Then they had found torn and bloody ground outside the gates where the beast had lingered. Hank had stood there, horrified at the sight of more of her blood.

It hurt to that this had happened while he was sleeping of his stupor. Hank had always been responsible around alcohol, but he had let his guard down in this peaceful safe place. He had trusted the locals. They where trustworthy too, they had helped, they where helping now, they where anxious to get this attacker. But it had been a mistake to think you could let your guard down anywhere in this god forsaken realm.

It hurt that the last interaction he had experienced with the beautiful red haired girl had been to accidentally insult her, and then drag her indecently into his lap. She must have been so angry with him. She must have been. Why else would she have been out here for.

If only it hadn't been just Eric with her. If only Eric would wake up and be able to tell them what they where facing. He was still unconscious as far as he knew. Diana was sitting by his side so she could let them know as soon as possible.

Bobby was helping the search, but he wasn't much use. Hank didn't know what to do with him. He was a mess, he was angry, but mostly he was scared. Sheila would have known what to do.

Ah Sheila, he felt the anger and frustration burn inside him. He just wanted to find her, and then to reap vengeance on whatever had done this. He would burn them with his golden arrows for this. All he needed was a direction to go in.

The suns had risen and still they hadn't found her.

He saw Diana loping towards him in that easy gait of hers and his heart stopped for a moment. He managed to straighten his face and try to look a little better than he felt.

She stopped beside him, doubled over catching her breathe, and he saw the marks of weariness and fear on her face too.

"Eric's awake, but he doesn't know much. He's banged his head pretty bad. He followed her out because he didn't like her wandering on her own. He saw someone jump her. He says it was very quick, and inhumanly strong. He thinks it bit her, thinks it bit her on the neck."

"Oh god" groaned Hank.

"Hank, he thinks it was a vampire, and he thinks it was a woman!"

A vampire. He felt a new flush of ice through his spine. He didn't know anything about vampires; they hadn't come across any in the realm. It stood to reason that there would be some though. This realm didn't stint on anything when it came to the nasties.

New implications raced across their minds. It must have taken her blood, it had definitely hurt her. Would it kill her, or even turn her into one of his kind.

"We need to find it Diana, and we need to find out about what these things are like here in this realm."

He heard a voice behind him. "Vampires are in this realm as they are in others; this one in particular was born in both this realm and yours!"

Hank sprung around. "Dungeon Master"

Sheila came to when she was dropped abruptly on the rocky floor of a cave. It took her a few moments to realise what was happening. She was so weak she could barely lift her head.

The vampire had been carrying her for the rest of the night. Now as dawn was breaking it had diverted into this cave to protect itself from the glare of the sun. All Sheila could see was a little light at the end of the long tunnel.

The Vampire looked about twenty years of age, and it was defiantly a girl. It had dark eyes, and long black hair that was tied back in a pony tail. It was impossibly strong, cordlike muscles ran all over its body, and even those didn't account for its strength.

Sheila couldn't get up. The vampire had stopped a few times to take her blood. She knew she was anaemic; in fact she was sure she was going to die. She couldn't stop shivering from the cold either. She didn't know how much blood had been taken but it was a lot.

She fought the dizziness to raise he head and stare at the vampire. "What do you want with me? I have friends; they will come for you if you don't let me go."

The vampire smiled. It was a crazy smile and Sheila realised that the creature wasn't completely there.

"My name is Susan. I want you for what you are, and what I was. I am going to make you like me and then we can be sisters. That will make them mad won't it? It will make them all so mad."

"Susan, what sort of name is that?"

"It's a name like any; it's a name like yours. Were both S girls aren't we. Sheila and Susan, Susan and Sheila. I knew we'd get along as soon as I saw the cloak."

The vampire leaned into Sheilas face. "I knew it as soon as I saw our cloak."

Sheila was a smart girl. Even in her weakened state the facts snapped together. Eric's shield on the statue, the shared cloak. She sank down to the ground in exhaustion, but her mind was racing.

Shiela wasn't going to die here. She had a brother to protect, and she had friends to find. She was going to get Bobby home, and they would live the life that had been interrupted. But she had to beat this crazed vampire.

"Think" she told herself. "What would Hank be doing right now. How could she help them find her."

Hank was angry, he was normally a restrained young man, but when the fires stoked in his heart they stoked high and bright. His glare would have brought any lesser creature up short. The Dungeon master just smiled, a little more grim than usual.

"Where's Sheila? What do you know about this Dungeon master? Is she all right, she had better be all right!"

"Calm yourself Ranger. It is true that Sheila is in great peril, but there is always great peril in this realm. The Thief is stronger than you realise, and stronger than she knows."

"She's a tough nut yes, but that doesn't mean she isn't hurt. There was blood everywhere Dungeon Master. She's hurt and I need to find her. I know you don't help except give us riddles, and normally that's okay, but this time is different. Tell us straight, where we should go."

Diana knelt down before the little creature. "Please Dungeon Master. We need your help more than ever."

Dungeon Master looked grave. "There is help that I may give, and there is help that I may not. Sometimes it is enough and sometimes it is not. Not all things in this realm are known to me, and there have been times when I have myself felt the loss that you fear now."

The creature sat on a large rock. Suddenly he smiled brightly. "Sometimes when to do the right thing is bad, and to do the bad is good, one needs to find a middle ground. Gather your companions in the village and you will find a guide less beholden to the rules than I."

"How will we know this guide," asked Diana.

"None of your companions have met him, but there are those amongst you who know him." The two young ones looked at each other confused, and when they looked back the Dungeon master was of course gone.

The locals and young ones dismantled the search and where returning to the village. The young ones joined them and found Eric out of bed. Presto and Bobby joined them. They quickly gathered for a council around a little table just outside Parvels inn.

Hank was glad to see that Eric was up and except for the bandage on his head looked fine. Bobby was quiet, absently playing with the unicorns ears. Presto was frowning, toying with his hat.

"What's up Presto?"

"It's my hat Hank. It's acting real weird. All day long its been glowing on and off. I wouldn't worry too much but…"

"But what?"

"It's kind of done everything I've asked of it all day. Done it properly too."

Eric looked surprised. "Now I'm feeling worried."

Diana frowned, "I don't think your as worried as your going to get. Have you looked at that statue over there? I saw it earlier; I didn't want to go over there at first cause that's where Sheila got hurt. But eventually I thought I should see why she was so interested in it. Eric, the Knights holding your shield."

Hank looked at her in shock, and then he noticed that the shape was the same. He accepted Diana's statement that the insignia was the same too.

He stood up and looked at it just for something to do, besides, he needed a moment to compose himself. He was finding it very difficult to remain composed.

The shield was the same though the Knight was no Eric. The night was far too majestic and heroic for that. Still he knew this was important.

Then he felt his bow throb in his hand. He looked up surprised and saw the same expression in the eyes of his companions. Each of the magical weapons glowed for a moment and then returned to normal.

"There are those amongst you that will know him." Hank stood and looked around, and sure enough there was a stranger sitting only meters away at a table. He hadn't been there before, and no one had seen him approach.

He looked about twenty or so, though ages where strange in the realm. He was an average sort of guy, with dark hair cropped back, and a friendly grin. He wore light leather body armour with a dangerous looking sword hanging loose by his side. Beside him there was a staff of wood, a plain staff with no ornamentation at all.

He sat comfortably with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. A mug of ale sat before him, and he stared intently at the young ones over its frothy head.

Hank stood wearily and approached him. The stranger held out his hand and hank shook it surprised. The hand shake was not a gesture he associated with the realm.

"Hi, my name is Tristan. You lot look like you're in a spot of bother."

"You look like you can help," Diana replied.

"I might be able to help. The Dungeon master has asked me to tag along with you. If you are willing for me to do so, then you will need to know certain things, and accept that you won't be told others. It is not my intention to tell you everything; the whole story is somewhat uncomfortable for me. Can you accept that?" He saw that they nodded their heads, although they where not completely comfortable.

"You are not the first pupils that the Dungeon Master has had. You are not the first to bear those magical weapons. Now that doesn't mean that the Dungeon Master has a habit of constantly bringing others into the realm, and giving them a name, a rank and a serial number. But there have been others here before, and mostly they never meet. Time moves differently here, and the realm is an ancient one."

"Are you a pupil of the Dungeon Master then?" asked Diana.

The man paused. "I was. For a period I bore the hat."

Hank heard Presto gasp, but Tristan held up his palm to stop the inevitable flood of questions from the boy.

Bobby got a question in. "So you never got home?"

Tristan smiled at him. "I had the option. I decided to stay. Others in my group took the option to return, and by now I should imagine would be very old or dead in your world."

Hank leaned forward. "Have others stayed here?"

"I should imagine that at some point everyone has to decide to go or stay if they should live so long. Three of my companions returned home."

Hank looked at his friends. The thought of staying had never dawned on him and honestly he couldn't see that it would ever be an option. They wanted to get home, they where dedicated to it with every fibre of their being.

But now that Sheila was missing, well if anything had happened to her, he would reconsider. He would maybe stay, and maybe spend a few years smashing the place up. He realised as leader that the presence of this man would have repercussions on the group, and maybe on his leadership. He also realised that the Dungeon Master must be very worried to allow this meeting to happen.

The others where looking to him now for a decision. He felt the weight heavily on his shoulders, but the knowledge of Sheila's peril made the decision easy.

"This is great," Hank said. "I'm assuming you're our guide. Do you know where Sheila is?"

"I have a good idea."

"Then let's get moving, we can get to know you as we walk."


End file.
